


The More Things Change

by hesterbyrde



Series: What Carries Weight [12]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Cunnilingus, Dom Phil Coulson, F/M, Framework, Kneeling, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Porn, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex, Spoilers, Sub Melinda May, The Framework Universe (Marvel), Top Phil Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 17:28:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10995561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: Some things are constant across universes. And Phil Coulson and Melinda May are one of those things.The Framework version of the beginning of Phil and Melinda's relationship as dominant and submissive.





	The More Things Change

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I know it's been awhile since I've added anything to this series. I've mentioned this before, but I'm sort of keeping semi-canon compliant and it helps for me to have some perspective when I'm choosing to add scenes. Especially since things have gotten more canon with those two (hooray!).
> 
> Anyway, this is my Framework version of the first fic in this series. You definitely do not have to have read any of the rest of the series to enjoy this one, though there are some call-backs to that first fic scattered throughout. 
> 
> I did not have a beta reader on this one, so mistakes are likely. Please let me know if you catch any... particularly spelling or small word mixups.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! I know some of you have been keeping up with this series since the beginning, and that just gives me the warm fuzzies. All the love ever!

The bar was an obscure hole in the wall, off a side street and down two blind alleys. The bare concrete stairwell that led to the door was cut into the foundation of an old office building, and all but invisible between two dumpsters. Nothing about the door looked appealing or inviting, with its flaking paint that revealed a seriously bad case of rust. Phil had actually gone to look at it once before chickening out and going home, despite having credentials and approval to attend from the local kink circle. 

"Cynthia's" was the name of the place, but there was no sign to tell anyone so. Phil had asked who Cynthia was, but no one seemed to know. It was just the name that had always been attached to the place. If she'd ever been someone… ever owned the bar, she was long gone now. Word of mouth was the only way anyone could know of the bar's existence, and good standing with a kink meet-up group was the only ticket in. 

Phil had been going to the local kink group's meetups and munches for months. His attendance was impeccable, but he barely talked to anyone, much less participated in any of the demonstrations. Watching was all he felt comfortable with. Maybe a little small talk if he was feeling adventurous. It wasn't their fault. All the other people in the group were welcoming enough, but they intimidated Phil. Many of the subs were high power business people, all dressed in their expensive clothes and polished leather. They made Phil feel very out of place in his brown suits and patterned ties. How was he supposed to top that? A willful sort of sub like that would buck him like a bronco.

But he'd kept going to the meetups hoping maybe things would change with a little more familiarity. The people were friendly, and indulged Phil's endless stammering questions. He'd not found a partner and no one had shown any overt interest, but that wasn't the point of those affairs. Partners were found at the Cynthia's Bar, he'd been told. That's where the larger kink community gathered, and that's where hookups happened. Meetings were for no-pressure socializing and education.

Once Phil worked up the guts to go in the first time, he almost immediately wanted to leave again. The bar's decor wasn't over the top. No chains hanging from the ceiling or black leather upholstery, but Phil still felt like he stood out like a sore thumb. Everyone was sharply dressed. Nearly every surface was polished dark wood, soft gray velvet, and the odd accent of pewter. But for Phil, the quiet desperation for some sort of connection outweighed the intimidation. 

And the staff was friendly and helpful. When they realized it was Phil's first time, they gave him a quick tour of the bar, and a peek down the hallway of rooms available for reserve. And they even talked him into accepting a red pocket square to mark him as a top, even though he'd never felt less toppish in his life. And they made sure he met up with some people he knew before they left him to his own devices again.

And tonight was not much different, but he was getting used to the initial awkwardness. He had made an effort to blend in with a dark blue shirt and charcoal slacks, but he still felt like he looked out of place. But his friends from the group he attended seemed happy to see him. The woman presiding over all the meetups this month even bought him a drink. He suspected it was because he probably looked like he was nursing a serious case of nerves. She was already partnered after all. 

After pleasantries were exchanged, Phil found a couch near the balcony rail upstairs and sank down, swirling a second rum and coke around in his glass. He mostly ended up people watching at these things. There might be the odd introduction, but he tended to keep to himself just like he always did. He kept telling himself that he should be talking to people. Trying to meet someone. That was the whole point. He could sit in any bar and drink alone. But he just couldn't find the courage to walk up to anyone. And moreover, he figured that he could if anyone struck his interest. But everyone seemed so... not right. And tonight was no different.

Until he saw her, tucked back into a shadowed corner and staring at Phil like she thought he might vanish at any moment. Phil immediately checked around himself to see who she was staring at, but he was more or less alone in his little nook of couches. When he looked back, she was still staring, unblinking and unmoving, and Phil felt himself blush at the attention. Though nothing in her face spelled attraction. Her expression didn't betray anything, save unwavering focus. 

Phil took another long, syrupy drink, as he looked her over. He'd normally blanche at the thought of being so forward and rude, but he figured if she was staring at him, he wasn't out of line to look her over as well. She was petite, but not fragile. Her close-fitting clothes boasted an athlete's frame, and her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders. When she lifted her drink to her mouth, her wrist sported a white handkerchief. 

He blinked at that. The white marked her as a submissive. She certainly didn't come off as submissive. Not initially anyway. But he gave himself permission to look… really look and observe this strange woman, and he found an interesting, reserved energy coming off her in waves. She was still, almost preternaturally so, as if she had been placed there and left. And her gaze, though it never wavered, was not a challenge. She wanted his attention. Phil hadn't been led to expect such forwardness from a submissive. Not here. Maybe there was some mistake and she was waiting for someone? He checked around himself again, looking for who she might be looking for, but he still found himself very much alone.

Phil took a deep breath and weighed his options. She was still staring at him, and if she was a sub, that probably meant he should approach her. At least that was usually how this went. The doms approached the subs. It was very rarely the other way around. She clearly wasn't going to presume. And there was something about her… something that itched at the back of his mind. Like he knew her, but couldn't place her face.

He finally gathered what little courage he had and stood, knocked back the last of his drink, and headed over, wracking his brain with every step for something suave to say. She was beautiful, he thought. The most intense and beautiful woman he'd seen in a very long time. And her eyes never left his as he made his way across the balcony to her. When he stood over her table, he blurted out the only thing he thought of.

"Hi."

She said nothing. Just dropped her eyes from his and pulled out the chair next to her, gesturing for him to join her.

He swallowed hard as he lowered himself into the chair. "Not to be cliche or anything but, I've never seen you here before. Are you new?"

She nodded. "What about you?" 

"Been coming for a few months now. It's a little intimidating, I'll be honest. I'm not good at socializing. Especially in a place like this. I feel like I stick out." He realized he was rambling and hastily wiped his damp palms on the knees of his pants. "Are you with the midtown meetup? I've not ever seen you at one of the suburban ones."

She shook her head. "I have different connections." She replied flatly, still not looking up at him. She only fidgeted with the vodka tonic between her palms. 

"Ah." Phil nodded awkwardly, letting a few beats of silence pass before he stuck out his hand. "I'm Phil Coulson." he said, summoning a cheery smile.

She blinked at him once before she took his hand, her handshake surprisingly firm. "Melinda." Her expression was unreadable, and it gave Phil a cold, feeling down in the pit of his stomach.

But her name… it was lovely. Melinda. Phil wondered suddenly and vividly what it would be like to roll it around on his tongue, and yet strangely he felt like he already knew how it tasted…

"I teach history and social science at Groverton High, out in the suburbs." He said, desperate to try and start some sort of conversation that lasted longer than three sentences. "What about you?"

Melinda reached into her pocket, pulled out a black leather wallet and flipped it open on the table. The HYDRA skull glared up at him from its wreath of tentacles. "HYDRA special operations."

Phil swallowed hard as she put the badge away. "Oh. Guess you can't make small talk about work."

The corner of her mouth pulled a little as her eyes flicked back up to his face. "You wouldn't want to hear it anyway."

He nodded in earnest agreement. "You wouldn't want to hear about my job either. Not because… y'know, but because it's boring. In comparison to what you do, I mean."

There was another wave of awkward silence, and Phil felt like he was floundering in it. 

"You're not here for work I'm guessing." He asked.

She shook her head, hooking a lock of her hair behind one ear. "Strictly a personal venture."

"Ah. Looking for a partner, or just… taking in the sights?" The question was out of Phil's mouth before he could stop it.

She cut him an appraising glance. "The former."

"Oh. Me too. Though I've mostly been doing the latter. I'm… I'm not very good at being social, like I said." Phil wiped his hands again. "And… what are you interested in having a partner for? If I may ask. Since you… you seem comfortable talking about it. Let me know if I'm… overstepping?"

Melinda inclined her head and turned more squarely towards him. "I'm… not entirely sure it's something that's easily explained."

Phil shrugged. "Well, there's some pretty divergent tastes around here. I'm sure I could introduce you to someone in my circle who-"

"I'm interested in you." She cut him off.

Phil drew up short. "Oh." was all he could manage in reply.

"I'm interested in…" She paused to lick her lips. Phil followed the motion without blinking. "Letting go. My life at HYDRA is… complicated and demanding. I'm in charge of multiple teams of agents all on different missions and at different security levels. I'm good at what I do. But lately… lately I found myself missing the time when I was an agent. When I was the one receiving orders and being looked after. When I was the tool used to achieve someone else's goals."

"And I caught your eye?" Phil asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes."

Phil nodded, his head spinning with ideas of what she could mean. "I… I'm new to all this." he admitted, scruffing at the stubble on his jaw. "But… I think if we got to know each other better, I could try to give you what you need. The… the drive to exert some control over my life is sort of why I'm here I guess. I'm sort of one of those people who… who doesn't know how they got where they are. And I don't even know if I'm supposed to be here. I… I'm rambling. Sorry." He looked away, crestfallen that he couldn't explain himself better.

Melinda pressed her lips together and took his hand, but said nothing for a few moments. 

Phil mulled over her request in his head as he memorized the texture of her skin with the pad of his thumb. All she was asking for was to be looked after. For her world to be narrow and ordered, and he could understand that. Moreover… he thought he might be able to provide that. Whips… chains… things that needed elaborate contingencies and safewords… that sort of stuff he wasn't ready for. But this? Maybe this he could do…

And he couldn't put his finger on why exactly, but something about the prospect just felt right. 

"Okay." he said, tucking her hand under his. "Okay. I think I can give you what you want. If you're sure a dorky history teacher is really what you're after."

Melinda smiled at him then. It was a strange pull of her lips, almost as if she didn't quite remember how to do it. "You're what I'm after. I don't know why… but I feel like I can trust you to give me what I… need." She faltered around the word need. She clearly wasn't used to using it.

Phil smiled back at her. "I'll do my best to earn and keep it. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or go reserve one of those rooms downstairs. Truth be told, I've never been in one."

"Me neither. Reserving a room sounds good. I'll follow you." She said as they both rose.

Phil felt the weight of those words falling across his shoulders like a mantle. There was a lot buried in just three words, and he was certain he wouldn't excavate the half of it tonight.

***

There had actually been a choice of rooms, much to Phil's surprise. Some were more modestly appointed with discreet supply cabinets, and simple tie points on the walls and bed. But apparently there were more elaborately furnished rooms down the hall, with whipping crosses, restraints, and all sorts of toys… the works. Phil had very quickly opted for the tamer choice. Part of him still wondered if this was some sort of elaborate joke. That this Hydra operative who claimed a bent towards submission was really going to laugh him out of the room.

But he would catch her eye as they walked, and as he unlocked the door. There was something guarded and soft and precious hidden deep down, and it made Phil ache. He wanted to coax and cradle it like the frightened and secret thing it was. But most of all he felt the desire to possess it. 

That dizzying desire was largely to blame for the fact that Phil dared to put his hand at the small of Melinda's back as the attendant escorted them to their room. And much to his pleasure and surprise, Melinda followed him, easy as anything. Like she had followed his lead a thousand times before. And as if she would follow him anywhere.

The private room Phil chose was similar to the rest of the bar. All the furniture was dark, burnished wood accented with bits of pewter here and there. The upholstery and carpet were a whispery, heather gray that helped to soften the look somewhat. It all felt at once both plush and imposing.

Phil locked the door behind them, and set about fidgeting with his shirt cuffs. Should he roll his sleeves up? He'd be more comfortable with the tie off and the top button undone, but she might get the wrong idea if he started shedding clothing. He didn't want to move things along that fast. He just-

When he turned to face the room, Melinda had already moved to the middle of the carpet and sunk down to her knees. His brain nearly short circuited at the sight. She looked beautiful with her head bowed. Her whole body bowed, in truth, even though she sat upright with perfect posture. She was a picture. A vision. And it sent blood surging downward in a dizzying wave. Phil gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the heat pooling low in his body as he moved to join her.

"You… you don't have to do that just yet if you don't want to." Phil said, "I just… I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed… or like I'm being demanding."

"I'm more comfortable here." she answered after a moment, candor brimming in her tone. Her voice was quiet now all of a sudden. Her words had held a meticulous and almost brittle edge out in the bar, but now she was different. She seemed softer somehow. Smaller. But no less fierce. 

"Okay." Phil responded, wiping his clammy palms on the front of his pants. "Can… can I join you for a second then? I just want to talk and make sure we're both on the same page, yeah?"

She nodded, not looking up.

Phil toed off his shoes before he gracelessly sat down on the floor facing her and crossed his legs. The carpet was softer than he'd imagined. Extra padding underneath probably, so it was easier on the knees. He took a deep breath and tried to call up everything he'd ever read about first timing with a new partner. This was all happening much faster than he had anticipated.

"Could you tell me again what you want?" he asked, gently.

She looked him square in the eye, instinctively understanding how important these questions were to his peace of mind. "I want to let go. To have someone else be in control. Calling the shots. I… I don't want to be objectified. I want to be an object. A thing to be used and treated as you see fit."

"And you're fine if that treatment isn't specifically rough? I'm not sure I'd be comfortable with that right out of the gate."

"Yes, that's fine." she confirmed.

"I have to ask… just because it's a good idea to lay all the cards out from the start. Is sex on the table, or no?"

Melinda's eyes flicked up to meet his at that question. "I assume it is."

Phil nodded, stalwartly ignoring the new wave of desire that nearly toppled him. "I didn't want to presume." 

"I would like that." she clarified, her gaze never wavering.

Phil felt his face flush as he smiled. "Me too." And for a moment he was lost, considering possibilities and fantasies. Imagining how her hair would feel as it slipped over his fingers. What the taut lines of her body would feel like under his hands. The sounds she would make… that he would make her make...

He had to nearly shake himself to return to his last question. "What's your safeword?"

A frown flickered across Melinda's brow. "Do we need one?"

Phil nodded awkwardly, feeling a little foolish and overzealous. "This is the first time we're together. I'd feel more comfortable if I knew you had one. I don't plan on doing anything terribly intense. Hell, I'd bet without looking that there's nothing in those cabinets that would even faze you."

She let a ghost of smile flit across her lips in response.

"I just… I want you to feel safe." he said earnestly. "And I want to feel safe too. Pretty sure I couldn't hurt you if I wanted to, but… I don't want to. Please?"

Melinda nodded, casting her eyes about as she thought of a word. "Okay, I've got a safeword." she said, pausing to lick her lips. "Serendipity."

"Serendipity it is." he replied. "Did you need me to know anything else?"

She shook her head, sending her hair fanning out over her shoulders.

"Alright then." Phil said with a twist of a smile, satisfied that he'd done his due diligence. He had begun picking at the knot of his tie when Melinda raised her hands to help him.

Phil felt a warm sense of deja vu wash over his brain when she moved to assist him. He suddenly had the sensation, as he had a hundred times before, of being in two places at once. Or remembering something he didn't actually have a memory of. Like he knew what her touch would feel like against his throat as she clasped the silk.

He took her hands and stilled them with a soft squeeze as he tried to focus on the present. "No." he said softly. And at that word, a confused panic suffused her face. To be denied. To be told "No." It looked familiar. Why did that look feel familiar? He was fairly certain that he heard something crack inside her when he'd said no. Down deep where no one had ever dared to look. 

Phil gently cradled her face in his hands, smoothing the worried lines around her eyes. She leaned into the touch, a soft, plaintive moan bubbling up before she could squelch it. "Easy." He whispered, suddenly enamored with the ease with which she surrendered. "Easy. I'm going to give you what you want. I am going to give you everything you asked for. But first I want to explore you." Phil said softly, tucking a lock of her hair behind one ear and drawing her gaze up to him. "I want to take a long time finding what makes you tick. I'm not cruel. I don't plan on being harsh or with-holding what you want. But I'm also not in a rush. Move where I put you. Stay where I put you. But you may make as much noise as you like. Deal?"

Melinda nodded shakily, clearly somewhat placated by whatever authority she heard in his voice. She dropped her hands and sank back on her heels to let him do as he liked. Once again she was the calm, collected supplicant, bent before her keeper. It all felt so familiar, and instead of questioning it, Phil pressed on. He wanted to feel it more than he wanted to understand it.

Satisfied with his answer, he followed his fancy and continued to play with Melinda's hair, letting her inky black tresses fall over his hands like water. Her hair was warm and fragrant, and Phil found himself fighting the urge to grab her by it. To manipulate her with just that. She would let him, he knew with a certainty he couldn't quite explain. She would let him sink his fingers into her tresses while...

Later. He counseled himself. He would definitely be doing that later.

Phil tipped her chin up, and Melinda opened her eyes. They'd fallen closed at some point as he played with her hair. Her head was already angled for a kiss, her jaw cradled in his palm as if in invitation. He ran his thumb across the seam of her lips and they parted easily. Almost plaintively, though there was no sound but her shallow breathing. And while Phil found the thought of denying Melinda what she wanted quite arousing, he wasn't interested in denying himself. She wanted to be used, and she would have it. And that part of Phil that always recognized the familiar in the unfamiliar wanted her. 

Her lips were soft and plush beneath his own, and she opened her mouth easily as he sought to deepen the kiss. She swayed into him, not lifting her hands but letting him pull her against his body. She moved like a willow at the water's edge. Always flowing and bending just as Phil wanted. Like they'd done this a thousand times before. Kissing her felt like home, somehow. Like she was a place long forgotten, rather than a person he'd met only moments ago. 

He knew the angle of her neck as he kissed his way down. He knew just where his hands fit best on the curve of her back. And Melinda arched just so when he pressed her to him, molding herself against him like she was made for it. 

Phil broke the kiss and stared down at her for a long moment, the sound of their mingled breathing the only mark of time. Suddenly all his apprehension and doubt had vanished. She didn't feel like too much to handle, and the reason why evaded him. Always just out of reach. But he'd abandoned his questions for the time being.

"Take off your clothes," he whispered. "And go lie on the bed."

Melinda nodded, easing herself out of his grip and rising to her feet. Phil watched her go, part in awe of her grace, and partly at how easily she shed her leather clothing. Part of him wondered if they taught you how to do that at HYDRA School or wherever they trained people like her. After a moment's admiration, he followed her, only losing his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons on his shirt.

"Face down or face up?" Melinda asked as he approached, only turning her head so he could see her profile.

Phil considered the possibilities for a moment as he gazed at her naked body. He could vividly picture her bent across the bed, the perfect curve of her ass pushed up into the air and her legs spread for him to do as he liked. The image held a strong appeal, but not for tonight. Not when he wanted to tease and explore her. To learn her and more importantly, have her learn him as well.

"On your back." he gestured. He sank down on the mattress beside her as she arranged herself on the mountain of pillows. Phil tucked her carefully against the hollow of his hip, admiring once again the subtle pliability with which she let herself be moved and guided. Part of him wanted to seize her and claim her in every sense of the word. He felt a sort of ownership that their short acquaintance could not account for. And her obvious physical strength and prowess were only a goad to his desire. He wouldn't have to force her. She would give him what he wanted willingly.

Phil kissed Melinda again, letting some of that claiming energy seep into his hands as he let his teeth skirt her lips. She actually moaned aloud this time, the vibrations sending Phil's pulse thundering downward. She arched and fidgeted, wordlessly begging for him to touch her body.

His hand found its way up the ample curve of her hip, skirting along the plane of her abdomen to trace at the curve of her breast. She kept arching towards him, encouraging and inviting him to touch everything he could reach. To own her body. And Phil decided he would do precisely that. 

But not with his hands.

He leaned down and captured her nipple in his mouth, rolling the sensitive nub of flesh around with his tongue, feeling her writhe under him in response. He nipped at her soft skin, marveling at the goosebumps that broke out where his lips passed. And the breathy, needy sounds she made only spurred Phil's desire to drag this out. He was true to his word and took his time, tasting and teasing to his heart's content. When he'd thoroughly kissed, licked, and nibbled at every inch, he switched to the other breast, replacing his mouth on the first with a soft, kneading hand.

As he began his gentle ministrations again, he noticed her moans turning plaintive. 

"What do you want, Melinda?" he asked, his voice rough and muffled against her body. He hadn't stopped teasing her as he spoke, gently dragging his lips along her body.

She had to lick her lips twice before she could speak. "You're so gentle." was all she could muster.

"You want me to be rough?"

She hesitated before she answered, her wide eyes staring up at the ceiling and her voice soft. "Most people take advantage of the opportunity." 

There was a beat of silence in which Phil frowned and raised his head to look at her. "Is that what you want?" His hand had not stopped teasing at her nipple.

"I told you what I want." she said.

Phil leaned up and kissed her, cradling the back of her head in his palm. "I'll give that to you then. What I want is to see how desperate I can make you. You're a singular person Melinda, and what little I know of you, you're probably possessed of a very singularly focused mind. I want to render you completely focused on my touch. On the prospect of me fucking you. I want you no where else but here. Not anticipating. Not trying to puzzle me out. Just being with me. And for me. I'm going to fuck you when I want to, but that is not now. Now, I'm going to lick you out until I'm satisfied I've heard every pleasured sound you can make."

The words and their tone sounded alien in Phil's ears. Like they were spoken by someone else. But Melinda listened with rapt attention and nodded before sinking back into the pillows. She was positively boneless in his arms, her legs falling wantonly open in invitation. 

"That's it." Phil crooned, scooting down her body to lie between her thighs. "Just relax. You're going to get everything that you need. You just need to trust me to give it to you." Now his words sent little puffs of air out across the sensitive flesh between her legs, and she gave a shivering roll of her hips in response. Phil took the invitation, and licked up the wet seam of her pussy in a slow, languorous lick. The cry that tore itself from Melinda's throat was nothing short of exquisite. 

He licked again, dipping the point of his tongue into the warm, wet cleft of her body, listening as Melinda keened again high in her throat. The taste and smell of her were all-consuming, and Phil surrendered himself to his promised task. He licked and kissed and caressed, marveling at every beautiful sound Melinda made. Quick, kittenish licks earned him thin, breathy little moans while a long, deep stroke of his tongue made her moan deep down in her throat. Phil swore he could feel the vibrations throughout her body. 

Melinda began to shake with the effort of keeping still, her fists clenched down into the bedspread until her knuckles turned white. "I'm… I'm going to come." she warned him, her voice thready and high. In response, Phil tugged her body closer to his face, burying his tongue in the soft folds of her pussy. She took another handful a shallow, panting breaths before her whole body went slack under the crushing wave of her orgasm. And Phil didn't stop caressing her until the last of the shivery aftershocks were spent.

He crawled back up Melinda's body, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses. "Do you want another?"

She shook her head, her eyes a little hazy. "No… I want… I want you."

Phil felt a strange, cruel smile crook his mouth. "Are you sure?" he asked, not quite sure himself what he was planning.

She nodded, grasping at his shirt with trembling hands. 

"Alright. Alright." Phil whispered, stealing a kiss from her before he unbuttoned his shirt and worked open the fly of his pants. He liked this inequity between them. Her naked and him clothed. It was a classic, but it was a classic because it worked.

Phil pulled his cock free of his underwear, and gave it a few loose strokes. Melinda watched him with rapt attention, eyes flickering between his thick, leaking length and his face.

"I'm going to fuck you. But not like what you're thinking." Phil told her, as he stretched across to the bedside table and fetched a condom. "Once I'm inside you, you're not to move. I'm going to do with you as I please. Your body is mine. I'm going to put it where I want it, and use it how I want it."

Melinda gave another shaky nod, clearly pushed past the point of coherent sentences as she watched him roll the condom on.

Satisfied that he'd made his intentions clear, Phil let himself drop down onto all fours. Melinda spread her legs even wider, begging for him with every part of her body. Phil kissed her again, and began to press inside. At the first touch of the silken heat of her body, Phil thought his resolution might fail him. He wanted to go slow. To tease and goad them both, but Melinda's body was so wet and inviting. It felt like she had a gravity all her own, sucking him in, and making him lose his mind. 

And so he gritted his teeth and slowed his advance, telling himself that he had a promise to keep. He began dragging himself back out of her pussy, admiring the sheen of slick that coated his length. He'd barely managed to get two inches inside her before he'd had to pull back out, or be overwhelmed.

Melinda gave a low moan in protest, earning her a wicked smirk. Phil began to press inside again, and this time Melinda arched to meet him. Phil reached up and grabbed her by the hair, not hard enough to hurt but with enough leverage that he could twist her face up to meet his. Her eyes flew open, her face suffusing with shock more than pain. He continued to work himself in and out of her in teasing, shallow thrusts as he spoke, his words harsh in her ear.

"I said be still, Melinda." He chastised in a dangerously even voice. "If you can't do that, I'll find a way to make you."

"I can do it." she replied quickly, her words threaded through with panic. She instantly relaxed, going limp and boneless in his grip as if to show her intention to obey. "I'll be still."

Phil nodded, mollified for now. "Good girl." he whispered, allowing another inch of his length to sink into her pussy. "You feel amazing. It's taking a lot of control for me to do this, but it's worth it. It's worth it to see you like this. Pulled between the desire for pleasure and the desire to please."

"I want to please you." she ground out, half through gritted teeth as he continued to work himself deeper inside.

"I know you do." Phil said, smoothing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "What pleases me most is that you'll let me use you like this. Let me work you open and push myself inside you." He was all the way inside now, sheathed to the root, and his maddening pace had not changed. Phil was just sliding his cock idly in and out. What he was doing couldn't even really be called fucking. Just moving, with no real agenda besides just being inside her. "This is what you truly wanted isn't it? When you asked me to be the one in control. Calling the shots. You want to be used. To be useful. Isn't that right?"

She could only nod, a reedy whine working its way up her throat.

"That's right. That's it. Just let me use you. However I'd like. You want me to come like this don't you?"

Again, she nodded, words completely failing her.

"I will. And you will. I promise you that too. But not before you-"

Melinda shifted beneath him slightly, her hand coming to rest against his bare chest, her fingers knitting into the hair above his breastbone. It was a simple but fantastically intimate gesture and Phil couldn't place why. Their eyes met as she dragged her fingertips over his breastbone. The sensation felt heightened in a way… alien and strange. Like it shouldn't feel normal. 

Again something prickled at the back of Phil's brain, and he saw the same look of not-quite-recognition kindle in her eyes.

"Phil…" she whispered, drawing him close to her and wrapping her legs around his waist. 

All Phil could do was just sink back inside of her, feeling all the air push out of her lungs as he did so. She clung to him desperately, letting him fuck into her slow and hard, the apex of each thrust knocking breathy moans from her throat. He abandoned himself to his pleasure at last. And to hers it would see. Abandoned both of them to whatever tiny bit of knowing had sparked between them.

Melinda stared up at him reverently as he plowed into her. Somehow she managed to hang onto his body and still keep her own inviting and open for him to do with as he pleased.

"I'm going to come again." she whispered in his ear. "Please… please…"

"Yes, Melinda." he said, the taste of her name in his mouth lighting his world on fire. "Melinda… Melinda…"

They came together, rocking and locked together as they rode out their orgasms in tandem. Melinda was exquisite when she came, the relief and pleasure flooding across her face. Phil wanted to speak her name as he lost himself in her body, but he could barely make more than the shape of it as his climax crashed over him in scalding waves. It was a long time before they came down from the high, and both seemed a little shellshocked.

"I'd say that went better than I was expecting." Phil said, carefully rolling off Melinda and collapsing at her side. "Speaking only for myself." He made quick work of tying off the condom and tossed it into the wastebasket. 

Melinda said nothing, following his motion and keeping her hands on him as if he might disappear. Her eyes were still a little foggy from her orgasm, and she did little more than hum in response. Her fingertips found his breastbone again, and she followed her touch with a light kiss. It made something deep down in Phil's consciousness ache. That same unknowable unreasonable familiarity that he couldn't explain or place. 

For awhile they drifted, trading touches and kisses as they wound down.

"Everything alright?" Phil asked, pulling her closer.

She nodded and smiled a little. She seemed softer now. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason. Just… I know we didn't do anything really crazy but… I know you're supposed to check in after. You know… the whole aftercare thing? Like I said… I'm sort of new to this."

"I'm good." She replied, her eyes going a little vague. "I'm very good."

"Good." he replied, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I know you probably have all sorts of official top-secret Hydra business tomorrow, but," He gave a bashful shrug. "I have the room for the night. If you wanted."

Melinda looked away, the gears in her head turning. "I… I have a meeting." she said distantly. "But I… will you stay? With me?"

Phil's smile widened. "I was hoping you'd ask." he said, pulling the blankets up over both of them, and settling Melinda back against the pillows. 

She clung to him again as she drifted off, and the last thing Phil remembered feeling was her fingertips skimming lightly along his breastbone.

***

Phil woke to find the bed empty. And while his heart sank, he couldn't bring himself to be all that surprised. She was a high level Hydra operative. It didn't go to wonder she'd left without saying goodbye, or leaving a number. His mind fancifully wandered, picturing her out on one of her secret missions, stealthing it up before going in for the kill on some Inhuman bent on…

He sighed and sank back into the pile of pillows, the scent of her hair still wafting through the air. Somehow, though he didn't have trouble picturing her being a badass, his mind kept coming back to the image of her kneeling on the carpet for him. It all had felt so surreal. Like their proximity had turned them into different people. He recalled saying things that he would never have the guts to say in broad daylight. Or to anyone else he knew in the kink community. But somehow she'd loosened his tongue… and a lot more besides.

But that feeling of familiarity was fading now, like it had all been a dream. Phil wondered if he was having another one of those episodes… like the one that had driven Audrey away. But he'd stuck to his guns then, and he would stick to them now. And if Melinda felt the same way, maybe they would find each other again.

He could only hope.


End file.
